What does it mean? Half awake in a dream?
Have I gone too far in self-indulgent fantasies of living the life I hope for?
Now I am surrounded by love, color, paints, boards, scraps of potential,
ideas, inspiration
but still, my worth is based according to my bank balance.
I am
all the way awake each day.
So aware of how the system-structure-it’s-just-what-you-do “reality”
Does not fit.
Not me
Not my children
Then why do I participate?
Not sure.
There are many miracles and amazing things about this world.
It is endless, I know.
But day to day I can’t quite make it make sense because
I have to try too hard
And when I do that I get sucked up and dried out
There are people to serve, places to clean, jobs too.
Jobs.
I have lost
loved ones to the great big unknown end. They had jobs.
And this reality keeps me questioning
What is the point?
I am lucky.
I know because I have it cushy
While people in Yemen and Kenya suffer.
Riots, earthquakes, fires, unrest.
Even a few blocks over there is a homeless man begging
With a sunken face and sad sad eyes.
half awake in a dream
I type words that appear on a screen.
{This post is the 3rd in a series of writings inspired by the titles of my most recent wood assemblages.}
ALYSON KHAN [blog] 